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(worse & Worse) Like The Son Of A Goat
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Rev Hammer
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Well, the name is Llewellyn and I'm carved out of stone Just me and the mountain, the valley is home And I've mined for silver, and I've dug for gold But these days I find I'm just picking up coal And the weather howls in through the holes in the roof Till the only things standing are the ones with the roots And it's worse, oh worse, like the son of a goat. Christmas sermons (?) in a pulpit, there's too much to stand And there's thousands more like you all over the land. And the hue there is black, as black as it looks And they shake when he reads from the great holy book And the ghosts they are bound in the lanes and the streets Till there's barely room left for someone new you might meet And it's worse, oh worse, like the son of a goat. Well I think I've been kicked and I think it's a sin The way my father was kicked and his father for him. And tonight I'll drink plenty with Davey and Jack Then crack my head open on a long journey back. When I come round nothing at all will have changed And nothing's quite ever the same, oh you know It's just worse, oh worse, like the son of a goat. Well the (...) has a heart, the choir has a voice We all stick together, for we haven't a choice. And no many have drifted miles in a day But in dreams they're returning and it's here they must stay. All the ties, I can't even seem them to cut I just spend my time cursing my luck, oh you know It's just worse, oh worse, like the son of a goat.
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